Page 45 of Branded Betrayal

“Like you used to smile at me.” His lips pull tight. “Before I fucked everything up.”

My breath catches.

His eyes are dark and wild as they rake over me. So much emotion swirls in the caramel-colored pools, none of it warm or cozy. There’s danger flashing, hunger and obsession waging a fierce battle with control.

“You should go back to your date,” he says, but he doesn’t move.

“If you really mean that, then let me go.” My heart hammers at his nearness, his cologne teasing my nostrils.

“I can’t.” The fingers of his free hand hover near my jaw but don’t make contact. It’s like he’s fighting himself. “God help me, I can’t.”

His lips crush against mine before I can respond.

It’s not gentle. There’s nothing romantic about it either. It’s desperate and furious and possessive, like he’s trying to brand himself onto my soul, trying to erase Tyler’s touch with his own. His hand tangles in my hair, tugging my head back. His body presses against mine, pinning me to the wall.

And fuck my life, I kiss him back.

I shouldn’t. I know I shouldn’t. But six years of anger and hurt and longing explode between us in the most inconvenient of circumstances, and like him, I can’t stop myself. My hands fist his shirt, pulling him closer even though every logical part of my brain screams for me to push him away.

He kisses like he’s drowning and I’m air. Like he’s been starving for years and I’m the only thing that can satiate him.

Then, without any warning, he tears himself away, both of us panting.

He stumbles back like he just stepped onto hot coals. He scrapes a hand down the front of his beard. “Fuck,” he mutters. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have—”

“Blaze—”

“No.” He backs up another step, like he doesn’t trust himself near me. “This was a mistake.”

I stare at him, heart pounding, lips swollen, body completely rattled at what just happened in this hallway. Where anyone could have seen us. “What?”

“You heard me.” His voice is cold. He’s completely shut down. But his hands are shaking. “Go back to your perfect date with your perfect vet. Forget this happened.”

“You can’t just kiss me like that and then—”

“I can. And I am.” He doesn’t meet my eyes. “I left you. I’m no good for you. I never was.”

“You don’t get to make that decision for me.” I seethe, my heart still thrashing at his delicious invasion.

“Maybe not. But I know what you deserve. And it sure as hell isn’t me.”

Anger burns hot in my veins at his words. “Then stay the hell away from me,” I say through clenched teeth. “I’m done being treated like a Ping-Pong ball. This whole thing is over. For good.”

He recoils like I’ve just slapped him and walks away. Just like that. Leaving me pressed against the wall with absolutely no idea what just happened.

Except that I’m the victim of yet another fucking power trip.

How the hell did I let that happen?

“You deserve someone stable. Someone who won’t fuck up your life.”

As if kissing me in a hallway while I’m on a date with someone else isn’t already fucking up my life.

As if he hasn’t already done that before.

Throughout the rest of dinner, I try like hell to bury all of the things that Blaze just unleashed with that kiss and self-deprecating monologue. I try hard to not show any signs that I have just had my world completely rocked by the one man I swore to hate forever.

Fuck him for interfering with my date. With my life. He had his chance.